Ideas and Things
by aszecsei
Summary: My addition to the "Collection of Story Ideas" genre. Harry/Hermione, Harry/Luna, Harry/Tonks, Harry/Hermione/Luna, and maybe some Harry/Fleur/Tonks if I'm feeling particularly, ah, happy. Rating will be earned later on.


**A/N: I might as well jump on the "story idea fic collection" bandwagon. Feel free to adopt any of these ideas/beginnings, just make sure to 1) give me credit in the fic and 2) let me know when you do so I can read your stuff.  
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* * *

There was nothing he could do.

The alert that the wards had fallen at Godric's Hollow had sent his heart plummeting, but to stand here and see the destruction that had been wrought on the innocent couple nearly brought him to tears.

The war against Tom Riddle had cost him dearly. Wars always did, always would. In a society as small as the Wizarding World was, the impact of even one death could be extreme.

And here, three deaths. James, Lily, and baby Harry, all lives snuffed out by a monster whose only selfish thought was his own—

The cry of a baby rent the night air, a piercing affirmation of _life._

Albus Dumbledore moved faster than he had in years, scrambling over burning wreckage while levitating other debris out of the way. Harry Potter was _alive!_

And if Harry had survived, then might not the same be said for James or Lily? Could they have repelled Tom Riddle's attack?

He found the body of James Potter in the living room, but he continued on. Surely Lily, then – but it was not to be, as he opened the door to Harry Potter's nursery and encountered Lily Potter's corpse, arms thrown out wide as though she were once more the little eleven-year-old girl making snow angels all around the Hogwarts grounds the first snowfall.

Harry Potter was the only living thing in the room, crying loudly. Dumbledore finally registered that his skin was tingling; the magical charge in the room was higher than he'd ever felt before, even after his duel with Gellert. Yet more magic seemed to be coming from the young child, dissipating without purpose.

He took out his wand.

Magic was far more dangerous than most witches or wizards understood. He knew, though, what kind of damage it could cause in those unable to control it. He'd seen what it had done after Ariana had been attacked, had seen how destructive it could be. To have a toddler with such power...he could destroy the entire neighborhood without a second thought.

"_Ligatis!_" he cast. The magic-binding spell wrapped around Harry, then fizzled and died.

He blinked.

The binding spell wasn't very complex. It restricted the amount of accidental magic a child could perform, and then stopped working once they received a wand. It shouldn't have failed.

He tried a second time, with the same result. The magical buildup continued.

He waved his wand, measuring the boy's magic. The wand glowed brightly, a miniature sun in front of his face.

He paled.

* * *

"Minerva, I need your help."

The older witch looked up. "Yes, Albus?"

"Have you heard of the ritual of the Channeling?"

She shook her head. "You know I am not as well-versed in old magics as you are, Albus. Why?"

"It was an ancient ritual originally designed for Egyptian slaves," he explained. "It would allow a person to siphon the magic of another. Pharaohs would have legions of these servants to make them more powerful than anyone else they could encounter."

"What are you saying?" Minerva's face paled. _He_ couldn't have...

"What?" he asked, then shook his head. "No, this is nothing Tom has done. The sources of power must be kept alive for the ritual to work, and Tom has little interest in such things. He gained power through far easier and far darker methods."

"Then why bring this up?"

He looked down. "Harry Potter is an orphan," he said, and Minerva's eyes widened.

"No," she breathed. "Lily and James..."

"I'm very sorry," he said. "But it appears they placed their trust in the wrong person."

"I can't believe he would betray them," she shook her head. "He wasn't a model student, but I never would have thought Sirius Black to be a Death Eater."

"Nor would I," Dumbledore said. "Or I would have advised against his placement as secret keeper. I, too, was made the fool."

"So what does Harry Potter have to do with the ritual?" she asked.

"He has great power," he said, "and no control. Had I not taken him to Hogwarts, he would have caused Godric's Hollow to be destroyed before the night was over. Were there to be another witch or wizard who could siphon off some of his power – some, not all – then he might be safe. The spell could be safely removed once he reaches majority."

"Couldn't he be kept at Hogwarts?"

"You know how busy I am, Minerva, and how dangerous Hogwarts can be. Poppy Pomfrey is always busy, and few of her cases are trivial."

"Who could be trusted with such a thing?"

"Physical contact is a necessity, at least once per day," Dumbledore elaborated. "So it must be someone who with whom he can stay. Someone we can trust, who will not recklessly use such power and who will be able to channel it without losing control."

"The Tonks family?"

"I am not inclined to trust them, given Andromeda's heritage. Before Sirius Black, perhaps, but now..."

"She _did_ marry a muggleborn."

"True." He considered. "They do have a child, young Nymphadora, but she is nearly eight. The two would only attend Hogwarts together when she will be seventeen."

"You want him to be bound to a child?" McGonagall asked incredulously.

"As I said, the binding requires physical contact at least once per day."

"You ask for a toddler with the control of an adult," McGonagall said wryly. "I do not believe such a child exists, or if they do, then their parents ought to teach us their tricks. Merlin knows we have adults who have the control of children here."

Dumbledore gave her a look. "Severus's position _requires_ his presence here," he said. "He wishes to be a teacher no more than you wish him to do so, but it is a sacrifice we must make."

"Why, though?" asked McGonagall. "Harry survived! You-Know-Who would never have left him alive, so it stands to reason that, well, it's over. The war is over."

"I wish it could be so," Dumbledore said. "I truly do. But there was no body when I arrived at Godric's Hollow."

"You think You-Know-Who isn't really dead?" whispered McGonagall.

"I do," Dumbledore admitted. "Tom was a brilliant man. He would have made preparations for anything."

"Even cheating death?"

"Even that," Dumbledore nodded. "There are several methods I know of, and it is likely that he knows more which I do not."

"So we still need Harry Potter," McGonagall concluded.

"Quite," Dumbledore said. "So where can we place him?"

"I'll get access to the Muggleborn registry," McGonagall said. "I think we can agree that it is unlikely that any of them have questionable loyalties?"

Dumbledore rubbed his face. "I hope so," he said. "This constant subterfuge grows wearisome. When Gellert and I fought it was man against man, a duel of skill and strength. But Tom has no such respect for his opponent...or perhaps he has too much."

* * *

"Can you get the door, sweetheart?"

Dan Granger smiled and got up. His daughter tracked his motion with her big brown eyes – he'd never thought he could love anything as much as he did Hermione's face. He already knew it was going to be hell when she finally realized she could get away with murder and still be absolutely perfect to him.

"Stay here, okay?" he said, and she gurgled in response.

It was a silly question, given that he doubted very much that she could understand human speech, but it seemed to work, as whenever he'd asked her to stay put, she had done so.

He crossed the living room and pulled open the front door. "Hello?"

"Are you Dan Granger?" a stern-looking woman asked. Her greying hair was pulled into a severe bun, and she wore a conservative trouser suit.

"Uh, yes," he said. "Sorry, but do I know you?"

The woman shook her head. "No, I am afraid you do not. My name is Minerva McGonagall, and I have an offer to make."

"Sorry," he said. "But we're not interested in buying anything right now."

Minerva McGonagall laughed. "I'm not a saleswoman, Dr. Granger," she said. "I...well, I suppose it's best to do this as the usual introduction. I am a witch."

"Religion isn't really our thing," he said, shaking his head.

"Not theologically," McGonagall shook her head. "May I come in? It's best to get a little privacy before I demonstrate. It can sometimes get messy otherwise."

He couldn't think of a polite way to tell her no, and stood aside. "What are you demonstrating?" he asked.

"Magic," she said with a smile, and whipped out a wand.

There was a moment's silence, and for a moment he wondered if he had just let a delusional mental patient into his house, and then he heard an animal snuffle, and he turned around. Where once had been a rather nice coffee table he'd picked up at a garage sale a few kilometers down the road, now stood a very confused-looking pig. It was snuffling the carpet in befuddlement, not quite knowing where it was or how it got there.

The next second, it had shifted in a grotesque transformation back into a solid-looking coffee table.

"What," he began, then stopped. "How," he started again, and stopped again. "But," he finally said.

"Quite," McGonagall said, looking pleased. "As I said, I am a witch, Dr. Granger, as is your daughter."

"Hermione?" he asked. "How do you know?"

"We have an alert system across the country," she shrugged. "It detects minor magical bleedoff in predominantly Muggle – sorry, the term for a non-magical person – areas with newborn children, and then records locations and names of those children. It allows us to ensure that any accidental magic is swiftly taken care of before too many people are alerted to its existence."

"You're a secret society," Dan realized, then jumped to the obvious conclusion. "No! You can't take Hermione, she's my daughter!"

"We're not going to kidnap your daughter, Dr. Granger," McGonagall said dryly. "If I were going to do so, I certainly wouldn't have waited for you to invite me in."

"Right," Dan said, feeling more than a little embarrassed. "What, uh, what is it you want?"

* * *

"Another child."

"Well, yes. I mean, he's already, uh, born, and it's not like we really _wanted_ Hermione to be an only child..."

"Yes, but that would be a few years down the road, at least!"

Dan sighed. "Look, the way she explained things, it would only do good – for both Hermione and this other kid. They'd check up on the situation regularly, make sure everything was fine. If we did have a problem, we could just give him back."

"I don't like it, Dan," Emma said. "We'd be rushing into things a little too blindly here."

Dan rubbed his face. "I know, but...well, I can't explain it, I just _feel_ this is the right thing to do."

"...alright. Fine. As long as Hermione likes the kid."

Dan laughed. "She hasn't stopped gurgling at him since that McGonagall woman brought him over here."

* * *

**A/N 2: Basically this would turn into a Hogwarts redo with Harry/Hermione as a partnership from the very beginning. They channel all their magic together, Harry providing the raw power and Hermione taking care of the finesse. Harry doesn't have to deal with abusive guardians, and instead has much more normal angst about being adopted.**


End file.
